


Dancing On The Valentine

by Clocks



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-16
Updated: 2010-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:45:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocks/pseuds/Clocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon wants to nap, but John keeps wanting to ask him a question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing On The Valentine

Simon had just made himself comfortable on the window seat and was about to doze off, lulled by the comforting rocking of the tour bus when he heard someone calling his name. He ignored it at first, wanting nothing but a good nap, but the caller just kept repeating his name, then started poking his foot. "Oi, you git! Wake up!"

"What? What?" He blinked blearily, more than irritated. He found himself staring at a grinning John, who had parked himself on the seat opposite. "Gerroff, I want to catch a quick kip."

"Not until you answer my question."

Simon groaned. He knew from experience that he wasn't going to get his nap until John was well and truly satisfied, so he propped himself up on the seat and folded his arms crossly. "What question?" He threw in a huge yawn, hoping that John would get the hint.

"Y'know, I am rather curious." John had that dangerous, teasing look in his eye that meant he was out to create some kind of mischief, or annoy someone to death, most usually Simon. "That ginger reporter just now had me thinking. What _does_ 'The Reflex' mean, Si?"

Simon fixed him with a steady glare. "Are we going to get into this now? Are we really?"

"Why not?" John glanced around the tour bus. "We have another two hours till we reach Baltimore. What else am I going to do?"

"Let me sleep?" Simon said hopefully, and John threw back his head and laughed. The stupid handsome bastard. Simon sighed deeply and wearily. He really let John get away with too much sometimes.

"No, come on, I want to know." John smiled at him. Simon rubbed his face, then took a good long look around the tour bus. John was right; there really was nothing else to do. He could hear Nick humming somewhere deep inside his bunk, probably listening to music, while Roger and Andy were involved in a cutthroat game of poker with two of the bodyguards. So either John wasn't in the mood to lose his money to cards, or he just really, really wanted to annoy Simon.

It was probably the latter.

"I'm waiting." John arched an eyebrow at him, smiling a little, and Simon felt his irritation evaporating. It was really hard to get angry with him when he had that devilishly charming smile.

"Well," Simon began, frowning slightly as he thought about it. "You should know it doesn't mean anything."

John rolled his eyes. "I know, but if you had to guess, what made you come up with that stuff?"

"No idea." Simon was honestly trying to think, but he felt something rubbing against the side of his thigh and realized it was John's bare foot. The toes curled slightly, and when he looked up, John was grinning widely at him. The bastard. "Well, I think it's exactly as the title says. Making stuff up on the go. Relying purely on human instinct, you know? Not thinking things through and just bloody doing them."

John was shaking his head. "Do I look like a bleeding reporter to you?" he kept saying. "Don't give me the rubbish press answer, it's me!"

"I know it's you," Simon growled, and he could see the slight shiver that ran through John's body at the low sound of Simon's voice, and that was when he had the idea to finally shut John up once and for all. "Okay, you know what? Follow me."

"Sounds like fun." Now John looked like some big kid running outside to play, jumping out of the seat eagerly and following Simon to the back lounge, which was tucked behind the bunks. As they walked past the ongoing poker tournament, they heard Andy's dismayed cry of, "Oh, fuck meeee!" as Roger laid down his straight flush with a cackle. Simon grinned as he walked past them to the back, John in tow.

When they got inside the tiny lounge, Simon closed the door, then made sure no one was in the attached bathroom where they sometimes took showers. When the coast was clear, Simon reached out and grabbed an unsuspecting John, their mouths mashing together in an almost violent kiss. He felt John's sharp intake of breath and saw his wide-open eyes up close, before they fluttered shut as John got with the program and returned Simon's demanding kiss. Simon slid his hands down John's strong back before cupping his arse with a squeeze, causing John to moan in his mouth.

When they finally broke apart for air, John was flushed and pink and panting, and Simon liked seeing him that way. "See?" Simon felt way too smug, but he couldn't help it. "Instinct taking over. Not thinking. Going with the flow. Now _that_ is the reflex, my friend."

John just stood there, his hair mussed, blinking at Simon. Then a smile grew on his face, and Simon thought that he looked so fucking sexy, just standing there and biting his lip. "Um, can you explain that to me one more time?"

"Sure," was all Simon said, before he leaned in again for another kiss, and this time, John was more than ready.

  
THE END 

 


End file.
